


Blunt Instruments

by heretoday898



Series: Blunt Instruments [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 10 Finale, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Hydra (Marvel), M/M, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Demon Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-07-26 11:49:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7572982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heretoday898/pseuds/heretoday898
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hydra is in possession of a deadly weapon.  A weapon the Avengers are not equipped to deal with.  Luckily Coulson has a contact, someone he and SHIELD tried to recruit over a decade ago, a man named Dean Winchester.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alrighty, this is AU from SPN season 10 finale where Dean does talk with Death but he doesn't kill Death. Also, set after Winter Soldier and acts as if Steve and Sam were successful in tracking Bucky down and bringing him back to the Tower.  
> This doesn't comply with Agents of SHIELD cause I have only seen maybe 4 episodes. Enjoy!!
> 
> As always all mistakes are my own and I do not own these characters.

Phil Coulson stood outside the diner, a converted aluminum trailer with a bright yellow awning off the side that had a few table and chairs scattered underneath it.  Sweat dripped down his neck as Phil spotted his contact on the far side of the makeshift dining area, the man’s back to the trailer and dark sunglasses hiding his eyes.  With a quick glance around Phil shuffled towards the man, suit clinging to his body in the baking heat of the podunk town they had decided to meet in.  Phil could feel the weight of the thick file held under his arm as he dropped into the seat next to the former Director of SHIELD and placed its heavy weight onto the table.  Of all the cases and files Phil expected Fury to contact him about; Dean Winchester’s was not one of them.  As far as both men were concerned it was a file that should have been erased from existence.  The file had been to an extent, there were no digital records of Dean Winchester or his family on any of SHIELDs databases, in fact, Phil had the only copy and based on recent events he was damn glad of that fact.  Phil repressed a shudder at the thought of what Hydra could do with the information in this file.  It was one thing both he and Fury agreed on, on all accounts.  Hydra could never be allowed to obtain any knowledge on the existence of the supernatural, at least, not more than they already had.  Phil had wondered briefly after SHIELD fell if Fury had some inclination all those years ago when Phil had first met Dean Winchester, if Fury knew there were still remnants of the Nazi rogue science division out there, looking for ways to step out of the shadows and assume absolute control. 

Fury reached out and pulled the file over, flipping to the most recent information which was dated a little over a year ago.  It was a police report and the image of Dean Winchester at a gas station looking up at the security camera after he beat a robber to a bloody pulp.  Fury continued to flip through the stack of information pausing at certain pages, pages Phil knew contained extraordinary and contradictory information.  In all the years Phil had been working for SHIELD, shadowing and spying on people, gathering information, recruiting, he had never met someone quite like Dean Winchester.  Phil has experienced some unbelievable events, things that have drastically changed his world view.  But, for being humans, the Winchesters were unnerving and unpredictable.  The reality the brothers operated in was something humanity could not deal with.  Phil had a difficult time wrapping his head around some of the events written in Carver Edlund’s books even if they were corroborated by his own research.  Fury shut Dean Winchester’s file after a moment and Phil placed the second, much thinner file down.  Fury flicked it open, the top page stating the bare bones of information, only coordinates, a death total and the other known information on Hydra.  The second page was a series of images, all of the same object.  The rusted scythe looked harmless lying in the dirt surrounded by the concrete floor and various scientific machines.  Phil knew that was not the case, Hydra wouldn’t be so invested in such an ordinary object. 

“So, anyone who’s tried to pick this thing up has died,” Fury stated closing the file.

“Yes, instantly,” Phil nodded at Fury’s raised eyebrow. 

“You want me to believe that Hydra believes they’ve found Death’s scythe,” Fury tilted his head, looking at Phil over his sunglasses. 

“Yes sir,” Phil confirmed, ignoring the rolling of his stomach. 

“You also want to contact Dean Winchester,” Fury’s voice was dry as he reached for Winchester’s file again, flipping through it.

“Yes sir,” Phil said his face calm.

“He shot you the one and only time you spoke with him,” Fury gave Phil a disparaging look. 

“In all fairness it was poor timing on my part,” Phil glanced to the side, his recruitment of Dean Winchester was a failure, a smudge on his otherwise pristine record. 

_Palo Alto was hot and dry in September, the breeze off the bay doing little to cool Phil as he watched SHIELDs possible new recruit.  Dean Winchester, 22 years old with only a car and GED to his name.  Well, those and a list of felonies and misdemeanors that people dressed like Phil would usually be watching only to arrest the man.  Phil however, wasn’t interested in bringing the handcuffs out, but he was interested in meeting the young man whose body language screamed elite military training, but whose file showed no active duty, just a father who is a former marine.  Winchester had been puttering around Palo Alto for the past week, tailing a tall, dark haired freshman who Phil knew was his younger brother, Sam.  Sam, who had received a full ride to college and had left Dean and their father to pursue a career in law.  Phil watched as the sun dipped low over the horizon and Dean Winchester made his way into one of the college pubs.  Phil followed moments later, eyes squinting as they adjusted to the low light.  Winchester was seated at the far end, body positioned so he had a view of all exits.  Phil crushed a smile that crept across his lips; he already knew the young man would make a good agent, vigilance didn’t come easy to everyone._

_Phil caught Dean’s eyes as he made his way over and took a seat next to the man noting how Dean’s body stiffened, eyes turning hard and calculating.  Phil didn’t miss the subtle movement to what the agent knew was a weapon, but he chose to ignore it instead shooting Dean a friendly look and signaling the bartender for a round.  The bartender left them moments later and Phil tilted his head towards Dean waiting for the inevitable interrogation._

_“You government?” sharp green eyes scanned Phil before settling on his face._

_“I’m here to offer you a job Mr. Winchester,” Phil stated, ignoring the young man’s question which had an obvious answer.  The raised eyebrows in response were not those of intrigue but rather disbelief._

_“I didn’t know I was looking for one,” Dean’s lips quirked._

_“We’ve had our eye on you for some time,” Phil spoke assuredly._

_“We?” Dean’s voice was hard._

_“Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division,” Phil made a soothing motion with his hands, one that had the opposite of the desired effect._

_“Wow, do you have to say that in every pitch or am I just special,” Dean snickered as he reached to take a sip from his beer._

_“We’re working on it,” Phil acknowledged with a slight smile._

_“But I am special right, I mean that’s why you’re here,” Dean stated, his charming grin would have easily distracted others from the guarded look in his eyes._

_“Well, you do have a skill set that has SHIELD intrigued,” Phil confirmed._

_However, he didn’t get the reaction he was expecting.  Instead of an arrogant grin, Dean’s face stilled, all expression wiped away and Phil felt a momentary flare of anxiety.  He held the intent green eyes, keeping his face open as Dean searched it, for what, Phil couldn’t guess.  Apparently he found it though because moments later Dean sat back, grin back on his face._

_“Don’t think I can help you man, I’m just a high school drop out with nothing to my name,” Dean shrugged, slapping down some bills has he rose to leave._

_Phil followed suit, leaving a generous tip before striding out the door after Dean.  The young man had turned a corner down an empty side street, a gleaming black classic car parked on the side.  Phil quickened his steps causing Dean to pause and turn, gun sliding out of his waistband and pointed at Phil._

_“I guess I didn’t make myself clear, thank you, but unfortunately I will not be able to work for your super-secret shady government agency,” Dean gave him a sharp grin.  Phil stopped short, hands still at his sides and unwilling to draw his own weapon._

_“Why not Mr. Winchester, there’s nothing else for you to do.  You’re brother has chosen a good path, he’s gone to college and as far as I can tell, you’re father hasn’t been in contact with you.  SHIELD can offer you a place, a job doing good work, important work,” Phil stated.  It wasn’t his usual pitch, but he didn’t have enough information on Winchester to know what would work._

_Apparently, bringing up Dean Winchester’s abandonment was the wrong persuasion tactic.  The shot rang out followed by the sharp pain of the bullet ripping through his shoulder.  Phil dropped down to one knee, reaching into his suit for his own gun and drawing it out of the shoulder holster.  Scuffed, booted feet stopped in front of Phil as the agent looked up into the harsh and conflicted face of a young man who had nothing._

_“Stay the hell away from my family.  You don’t know shit about anything in this world Agent and if you’re lucky it’ll stay that way,” Dean Winchester spat as he slid the gun back into his waistband.  Phil watched as the young man slid into the classic, well-loved car and drove off, not once looking back at the man he just shot._

_It would be years later, after the news of Sam Winchester’s girlfriend’s death that Phil and Fury would put the pieces together, would research the bizarre occurrences that drew the Winchester family to towns all over the US, would begin to understand the life these men led.  It would be a clear night, the full moon casting shadows through Fury’s office when Phil and the Director would scrub SHIELDs systems clean of any and all traces of Dean Winchester._

“I presume you’ve been keeping track of him,” Fury sighed not hiding his annoyance. 

“Yes sir, I believe I have the general location of the Winchester’s base of operations,” Phil confirmed, hope bubbling in his chest. 

“I thought they were nomadic?” Fury leaned back, arms crossed over his chest.  Phil flipped to a document in the Winchester’s file showing a pixelated aerial of an abandoned bunker with a black Impala parked in front of it.  Fury hummed, nodding as Phil showed more images of the Impala pulling up to the bunker over time.

“Alright Coulson, you need a team.  There’s no way I’m letting you go this alone,” Fury’s voice was sharp and commanding.  Phil nodded in acceptance.

“Who exactly am I supposed to bring sir; the Winchester’s aren’t exactly the most trusting people and I am technically still dead,” Phil murmured.  Fury gave him a contemplative look before heaving a long suffering sigh.  Fury took out his phone and after a minute or so slipped it back into his pocket before looking Phil dead in the eye.

“There, no longer dead,” the former Director smirked. 

“I trust you can assemble a team Coulson,” Fury called over his shoulder as he stalked away and Phil’s phone started chiming excessively.  Phil looked down a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.  His phone displayed a growing number of unread messages as he quickly sent off a meeting time and place to each of the names attached to the texts.  Phil let a full smile slip across his face, he had a team to assemble. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always all mistakes are my own and I do not own these characters.

**3 Months Later**

The barn was dark and still as moonlight filtered through the cracks and broken windows.  Dean sat on a bale of hay breathing heavily and slightly concerned about the wet rattle of his chest.  Sam had gotten the two little girls out, sisters who were 8 and 10 with bouncing curls and tear streaked faces.  Dean felt the rage boil under his skin, an itch crawl up his arm at the memory of their petrified faces, the older girl shielding her younger sister from a vicious set of teeth.  Dean took a fortifying breath before his head snapped up at the crunch of gravel outside the barn.  Dean palmed the machete in his hand as he heard multiple footsteps approach, it wasn’t Sam coming back for him, his brother wouldn’t have been able to bring the girls to the police station that quickly.  Dean grimaced wishing he could have gone with Sam, but he didn’t want to risk terrifying the girls even more.  Instead he was here, dripping blood on a bale of hay surrounded by half a dozen decapitated corpses with a group of unknown assailants approaching.

Dean heaved a sigh, blood trickling out of his mouth as he reached to his side and picked up the shotgun sliding it across his lap and pointing it towards the barn door.  The bright light of an LED flashlight weaved in and out of the cracks before the door was pushed open.  Dean could make out two tall silhouettes, the flashlight causing Dean to catch a glint of metal where the second person’s arm was.  He heard the murmur of voices outside but couldn’t make out the reply from the two in the barn.  Dean subtly shook his head, his mind was hazy and he couldn’t ignore the deep throb pulsing through his arm.  A shorter silhouette entered and Dean could just make out the outline of a gun drawn and pointed downwards.  The flashlight flickered back out the door and Dean could only just make out the sound of the third man saying “lights.” 

Dean repressed a snort; these nosy dumbasses were in for a rude awakening when the barn lights flickered on.  A muddled thought flickered across Dean’s mind; he should probably be more concerned, but he could feel his body slowly shutting down, a sweet numbness taking over and he couldn’t find it in himself to care.  Dean heard a low curse from outside; whoever it was must have found the busted fuse box.  A series of low clicks followed by the subtle hum of electricity told Dean whoever was outside knew their way around electrical engineering.  The dull overhead lights flickered on moments later.

Dean blinked through the droplets of blood coating his eyelashes, head and shotgun turned towards the three men at the door.  The first two men were tall, broad and complete opposites.  One light to the other’s dark, although they held themselves as equals.  Despite the different coloring, both men had matching expressions as the lights illuminated the absolute carnage of the warehouse.  Dean rolled his eyes before slightly turning his head to study the third man. 

Had Dean not been slumped on a bale of hay and leaning against an old, nail filled beam sagging from blood loss, he would have startled.  The third man had aged and was clearly experiencing hair loss, but Dean knew him.  It may have been over a decade, but the Dean recognized the super-secret agent from Palo Alto all those years ago.  Same suit, same tie, same bland and unimpressed look.  Dean lifted his head; mind clearing as he unconsciously recognized the possibility of a new threat.  He was still partially hidden by the wooden beam and no doubt the three men assumed everyone in the barn was dead, it wasn’t much, but Dean knew it was his only advantage.

****

Bucky swallowed convulsively, eyes scanning the massacre in front of him.  He didn’t know Agent Coulson, but Steve vouched for the man.  Even so, he didn’t know if even Steve’s high esteem for Coulson would be enough for the Avengers to agree with whatever the agent had planned.  Because this, this amount of death and bloodshed was not included in the briefing.  There were at least a half a dozen decapitated bodies strung about the interior of the barn.  However, it was the four bodies tied to wooden beams with their throats ripped out that had Bucky struggling to breath.  They were kids, three boys and a girl, all no older than ten.  Bucky’s eyes slid over to Steve, his best friend’s face drawn and tight as fire flickered in his blue eyes.  He gave Steve’s shoulder a squeeze as the hero took a shuddering breath before stepping forward, shield placed defensively across his arm.  Bucky moved to follow but Coulson’s hand on both their arms made the soldiers pause. 

Bucky turned to glance back at Coulson and saw the man’s eyes were trained on a wooden beam halfway across the barn.  The bales of hay stacked next to the beam were cast in shadow, but Bucky could make out the end of a shotgun pointed in their direction.  Looking more closely, Bucky could see the puddle of blood still pooling underneath the hay. 

“Mr. Winchester,” Coulson, gun drawn, hurriedly made his way over with Bucky and Steve close behind. 

Bucky approached last as Coulson crouched down and he heard Steve’s sharp inhale.  It was a man sitting on the hay bale, shotgun trained on Coulson and a machete gripped tightly in his other hand.  Bucky met green eyes head on; they shone defiantly on a face covered in blood and bruises.  Bucky scanned the man again and noticed the patched of blood seeping through the flannel shirt, the elbow of the arm holding the machete pressed tightly against his side, blood staining the sleeve.  Bucky lurched forward towards the man, the machete swiftly rising to press against his sternum.  Bucky raised his hands in supplication before kneeling down before Winchester and pressed his hand to the wound on the side.  The machete fell and green eyes turned back to Coulson and Steve.  The latter had his hand to the comms calling for the team outside.  Coulson pulled out his cell and called for medical as Wilson, Stark, Barton, and Romanov made their way into the barn.  Bucky spared the Avengers a glance as they came in, Sam and Tony the only one’s showing any visual reaction to the scene in the barn.    

“I need to wait for my brother, if you think for one second I’m leaving without him,” Winchester gasped, hand gripping his side as Coulson turned to look at him, eyes critically scanning the man.

“You’ll die if we don’t get you medical attention,” Coulson countered, face impassive. 

“Your point,” Winchester groaned as he tried to flash a grin.

Bucky’s brow furrowed as he cast a glance at Coulson, the agent didn’t seem surprised by Winchester’s response, if anything he seemed resigned and accepting of it.  Steve, however, was getting ready to lay into the man sitting slumped and bleeding.  Bucky could see it in his friend’s eyes, righteous indignation causing the blue to flash.  Bucky’s attention was brought back to Winchester as the man hissed, Sam having come over with a cloth and some antiseptic which the Falcon dabbed on the man’s face.  

“What can I help you with Agent?  Cause I know I told you the last time I wasn’t interested in anything your shady organization had to offer,” Winchester glared at Coulson, hand gripping the machete.  Bucky and the other Avengers looked at Coulson in confusion, Barton and Romanov with a hint of suspicion. 

“It’s more along the lines of a consultation, not a job offer Mr. Winchester,” Coulson stated, ignoring the looks he was receiving, “and I would prefer you alive for the consultation.”

****

Dean clenched his teeth, a snarl curling his lips.  Not that he wasn’t grateful for the medical attention, but why did it have to be from the government.  He thought he had made it clear he wasn’t interested, it was bad enough he had been on their radar once and now he would be indebted to the bastards.  Never mind the agent was here with the Avengers, that was something Dean was trying to conveniently ignore.  Although, Captain America was making it rather difficult seeing as he was glaring daggers at Dean with a judgmental jut of his patriotic chin.  The two newbies, Dean couldn’t remember their names, after all it wasn’t like he and Sam had much time to sit down and play catch up with world news, were at least being helpful and keeping him alive. 

“Well, I advise you start talking then,” Dean remarked, the agent didn’t apparently grasp the concept that he wasn’t going anywhere with them. 

“We need your help with something Mr. Winchester,” the suit said after a moment.

“Obviously.  I’m assuming it doesn’t have anything to do with the vamps here either, so, what is it?” Dean wanted to rub his eyes, he could feel a headache coming on, didn’t matter that he was dying. 

“Vamps?” the newbie with the fancy goggles next to him asked as he continued to apply antiseptic to Dean’s face.  

“Vampires,” Dean cocked his head to the side, lips curved upward, “what’d you think, I just up and decapitated a bunch of people for no reason.” 

Dean’s proclamation was met with silence varying from stunned disbelief to threatening suspicion.  His two nurses fell into the former category while everyone else except the suit made subtle movements towards their weapons.  Dean snorted then winced as his side pulled, he wasn’t going to explain himself to a bunch of jumped up heroes.  Instead he gritted his teeth and leaned over grabbing the head of one of the males closest to him.  Dean lifted the head and turned it to face the group, repressing a smirk as Stark blanched.  Popping the vampire’s mouth open, Dean pressed down on the gums of the upper row of teeth and watched as the second row of razor sharp teeth punched out.  Dean cocked his head to the side as he tossed the vamps head back to the ground and stared at each one of the Avengers.  Uncomfortable, pale faces stared back at him before the agent cleared his throat and squared his shoulders, looking at Dean.

“Mr. Winchester,” the agent started before Dean interrupted, “its Dean.”     

“Dean.  I’m Phil Coulson and we need your expertise,” Coulson acknowledged with a small tilt of his head.       

“Well that can’t be good,” Dean huffed and twitched as cool metal fingers moved his arm away from his side, the machete dropping to the floor. 

“No, no it isn’t good for anyone.  So if you could please postpone dying it would be appreciated,” Coulson deadpanned, eyebrows arched.

“We’re just going to ignore this whole vampire thing for now aren’t we?” the man to his side gave the agent a pained look before sliding Dean’s flannel up, wiping blood as he went. 

“Unfortunately Mr. Wilson, yes, we have more pressing matters to deal with,” Coulson nodded as he drew out a folder from his coat. 

Dean rolled his eyes, how was it that these government types always seemed to have the ability to hide large files in their clothes.  Coulson sat down next to Dean on a hay bale, the remaining Avengers crowding in closer as the agent opened the file.  There, front and center on the first page was an image of Death’s scythe in all its rusted glory and for all intents and purposes looking completely innocuous. 

“Fuck,” Dean whimpered, bloody hand running through his hair.

****

“I was hoping for something a little more reassuring,” Coulson sighed as he closed the file.

Bucky looked over at Coulson, noticing for the first time since he’d met the man an actual expression of alarm.  Looking up at Steve, he noticed how concerned his friend was too at the expression on Coulson’s face.  Bucky had only gotten a glimpse of what was in the file and he knew it had to do with Hydra, but other than that, he didn’t see the need for worry over some rusted piece of metal.  Apparently Sam didn’t either because he kept on providing Winchester with first aid. 

“Alright Phil, you’re being more cryptic than usual care to fill us in,” Tony announced as he came forward.  Honestly, Bucky was surprised the man lasted this long in silence.

“Actually Tony that is why we are here for Mr. Winch- Dean, he is far more knowledgeable on the subject than I am,” Coulson replied barely sparing Tony a glance. 

Bucky looked up at Dean, his metal arm supporting the man as Sam worked.  He was much more alert, although his face still lacked any color and his green eyes stood out brightly against his stark features.  Bucky slid his flesh hand up to the injured man’s neck, checking his pulse, it was sluggish but strong and Bucky didn’t doubt the man would live. 

“You already know what it is,” Dean commented with a slight grimace.

“We have a suspicion, yes,” Coulson reluctantly responded, “it’s in the hands of a terrorist organization called Hydra.” 

“Hydra, you mean like the monster, cause if so, don’t go cutting its head off, never works, unlike vampires,” Dean stated with a casual nod towards the bodies strewn about the barn. 

“They’re the former secret Nazi science division and have an affinity and obsession with the occult.  If that image is what I think it is and what you know it to be, then you can see why we are concerned,” Coulson corrected, sharp eyes intent on Dean. 

“What is it?” Steve’s voice cut through the stillness of the barn.

“Death’s scythe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments or Kudos!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for the comments and kudos!   
> I have a headcannon about Death's scythe that will be explained in a later chapter but here's the basics-only someone who has permission from Death can hold/use the scythe, only someone who has been Death can hold/use it, and only the vessel of an archangel can hold/use it-if someone doesn't fall under 1 out of 3 then they die if they touch it
> 
> This fic will be completed by Aug 6th cause that's when I go on vacation and I can only say the updates will be random over these 2 weeks. 
> 
> As always all mistakes are my own and I do not own these characters.

Phil felt his stomach plummet, sometimes he hated being right.  Dean’s confirmation about the object currently in Hydra’s possession caused a whole new set of problems he wasn’t equipped to deal with.  Phil looked at the man in front of him, Dean’s green eyes were grave as they stared up at Phil.  He had truly hoped he would never have to come across Dean Winchester again.  Following the man and his brother’s activities all these years was bad enough; seeing the toll it took, the actual visual confirmation of his and Fury’s assessments was gut wrenching.  The younger man was quite literally sitting in front of him bleeding out, well not so much anymore thanks to Barnes and Wilson, but still Dean Winchester was a sarcastic and obstinate individual.  Phil internally sighed, how was it he always managed to surround himself with strong willed people. 

Phil titled his head towards the open barn door as he and the Avengers heard the low rumble of a car pulling across the gravel.  Natasha and Clint had their weapons drawn and Steve’s shield was raised as the Captain broke away from the group and quietly made his way to the center of the barn.  Phil glanced back at Dean and saw the man’s eyes glued to the barn door as the car engine shut off.  Footsteps paused outside the open door and Phil heard a soft voice call out for Dean. 

“I’m alright Sammy, come in and don’t shoot anybody, they’re friendly,” Dean called out and winced from the pain. 

Phil watched Barnes apply more pressure to Dean’s side in order to ease the man before turning back to the front of the barn.  Tony had moved to stand beside Steve, hand raised as the modified repulsor disguised as a watch clicked into place.  Sam Winchester walked through the door moments later, gun drawn but aimed away.  Phil forgot how tall and imposing the younger Winchester was, he had definitely grown into himself over the years.  Sam Winchester’s eyes were wide as he took in the scene and Phil noticed the flash of pure awe in the man’s eyes as he looked at Steve and Tony.  It only lasted a moment before he was back to business, striding towards Phil and Dean with a determined set to his jaw.  Sam crouched down in front of his brother, placing his gun on the hay bale next to Dean.  Phil signaled for Natasha and Clint to lower their weapons which they did albeit reluctantly. 

“I’m fine Sam, they’ve patched me up good,” Dean spoke, placating his brother. 

Sam snorted and Phil met his murky eyes over Dean’s head.  Those eyes demanded answers and the promise of agonizing pain if Phil and the Avengers were any threat to Dean.  Phil pulled his best bland mask and projected calm competency.  Sam Winchester just arched an eyebrow, seeing right through what Phil was trying to portray and wasn’t that unnerving. 

“Sam,” Dean snapped drawing his brother’s attention away from Phil.

“What the hell’s going on Dean?” Sam glared back, hand cupping his brother’s face. 

“Well, this is Phil Coulson of, oh man, it was a really long name, anyway he’s government if you couldn’t tell and these are the Avengers, which I’m sure you could most definitely tell,” Dean grinned at his brother and Sam pulled a disgruntled face. 

“Yeah, that’s great and all Dean.  What are they doing here?” Sam rubbed a hand down his face. 

“Consultation,” Dean groaned before the sound cut off and the whole barn went still and silent. 

Police sirens could be heard in the distance and coming closer.  Phil turned to look at the Winchesters, a series of complicated facial movements and one long stare later had Sam reaching forward and hauling Dean up causing Wilson and Barnes to grumble and shuffle out of the way.  Barnes, however, kept his hand on Dean’s side both to steady the man and keep pressure on the wound.  Phil watched Sam shoot the super soldier a calculating look, one Barnes met with steely resolve. 

“We need to get out of here,” Sam muttered as he shoved his shoulder under Dean. 

“The two little girls are safe, right? Sam, you got them help?” Dean’s voice shook as he looked at his brother.

“Yes, of course Dean.  But, I’m sure the cops wanted to know what the hell happened, I just hoped we would’ve been out of here by the time they got to the barn,” Sam’s voice was exasperated  as he tried to drag his brother to the door. 

Phil looked around the barn and he knew how this would play out, the brothers would be wanted men again, arrested and locked up for the rest of their lives.  The sirens were right outside the barn, tires skidding to a halt as Phil heard the officers slam the doors and surround the barn.  Phil locked eyes with Steve, a silent agreement passing between them.  Nodding to each one of the Avengers, Phil and Steve moved towards the door just as the sheriff called for them to come out with their hands up.  Phil slid his SHIELD I.D. out of his pocket and Steve pushed his cowl back as they signaled for the others to wait and exited the barn. 

“Officers, I am Agent Phil Coulson of SHIELD and this is Captain Steve Rogers, we are terribly sorry to inconvenience you but we have the situation well in hand,” Phil announced to the group of shocked policemen. 

A man with a sheriff’s badge walked up to Phil, trying to disguise his astonishment as he looked between Captain America and Phil.  Phil listened respectfully as the man asked his questions and told Phil and Steve the story about the little girls who were dropped off, Phil nodded at the appropriate moments.  The Sheriff eventually got to the part concerning the Winchesters and their involvement, it was just the opening Phil needed to assure the man that Dean and Sam Winchester were his agents who were sent to uncover the children’s disappearance and deal with the perpetrators.  The relief on the Sheriff’s face was expected, the man clearly did not relish having to deal with the fallout the disappearances and murders would have on the town.  Phil hid a smile as Steve assured the man that SHIELD and the Avengers would take care of everything.  An hour later and the police were pulling away from the barn as Steve and Phil exchanged a long look before turning to go back inside. 

****

Dean was still hanging onto Sam when Coulson and Captain America came back into the barn, a pleased look on the agent’s face.  Dean grumbled, he knew the man had flashed his fancy government I.D. and whatever he said the cops took as law and yes, Dean was thankful but he did not want to be indebted to the man for a second time tonight.  Apparently, Sam had no such reservations as he thanked Coulson and even gave Captain America an earnest puppy dog smile which the soldier returned with a bright, sincere grin.  Dean rolled his eyes as he squeezed Sam’s shoulder indicating to the door and the waiting Impala; he wanted to get out of this place as soon as possible.  Thankfully, Sam seemed to pick up on his mood and nodded, helping Dean outside while the others followed.  

“We need to salt and burn the bodies,” Dean grunted as Sam leaned him against the Impala.    

“I’m sorry, what?” Tony Stark gave Dean an incredulous look. 

“Standard procedure.  You don’t want anyone coming back as a pissed off ghost or for anyone to get their hands on vampire blood, trust me it ain’t pretty,” Dean shrugged as he indicated for Sam to open the trunk and get the salt and gasoline.

Dean ignored the looks he was receiving as he tried to move to help his brother only to be stopped by a metal hand lightly grasping his wrist.  Dean’s eyes met the cool blue of the brunette soldiers’ as the man gently pushed him back against the car and moved to help Sam.  Dean blinked rapidly in confusion and quickly glanced around taking in the other surprised faces of the Avengers. 

“Alright, so mind telling us who everyone is,” Dean shot Coulson a demanding look as Sam closed the trunk. 

“Dean, you honestly don’t know the Avengers?” Sam was shocked and Dean almost chuckled at the affronted look on his brother’s face.

“Well, I know Captain America and Iron Man,” Dean gestured vaguely to the two heroes, “but I’m kind of at a loss for the others, not everyone’s as much of a fangirl as you Sammy.”  Sam made an indignant huff and Dean grinned, satisfied.

“It’s Steve Rogers and if we are going to be working together, please call me Steve,” the super soldier held out his hand and Dean barely winced as he raised his own to shake it. 

“Dean Winchester and this is my brother Sam,” Dean said in return as Sam reached forward eagerly to shake Captain America’s hand. 

“Tony Stark as you already know,” the billionaire gave a megawatt smile and a casual wave. 

“Natasha Romanov and Clint Barton, our resident spy-assassin combo,” Stark continued as he pointed to the red head and the archer. 

“I’m Sam Wilson,” Dean’s second nurse, the one with the cool goggles spoke up before Stark could introduce him.  The genius gave Wilson a petulant look which Wilson rolled his eyes at.  Dean liked the man; he seemed like someone who could roll with whatever life threw at him. 

“Bucky Barnes,” a smooth voice said from off to Dean’s side.  The dark haired soldier with the metal arm and intense eyes gave Dean a slight smile as he dropped the bag of salt on the ground. 

“Bucky?” Dean arched an eyebrow as his lips quirked in amusement. 

“Well, it’s James but I go by Bucky,” the man, Bucky, scoffed and gave a rueful shake of his head. 

“Well then Bucky, thanks for the save,” Dean gave the man an appreciative, if a little tired, grin. 

Bucky gave a nod as he and Sam marched back towards the barn carrying the salt and gasoline from the trunk.  It didn’t take them long and soon Dean was watching his brother and Bucky hustling out of the barn door as the crackle and smell of smoke reached Dean and the others.  A few minutes later and half the barn was in flames, the glow shining off of Bucky’s arm and Captain America’s shield.  There was some chatter going on between Captain Amer – Steve, Stark, and Coulson but Dean was unable to make it out over the fire. 

“So, you guys are the two newbies.  How’d that happen?” Dean asked head rising as silence fell over the group.

“What?” Dean’s voice was defensive and he gave Sam a helpless look. 

“SHIELD fell last year, Hydra had been at its heart and well, Sam was one of the people who helped me take everything down, Natasha too.  Bucky…Bucky was being used by Hydra as an assassin called the Winter Soldier for the past 70 years,” Steve spoke softly as he gave Dean a puzzled look. 

“Steve saved me, brought me back,” Bucky murmured as Steve reached out to clutch the former Winter Soldier’s arm. 

“How do you not know that, it was all over the news?” Stark gave Dean a look of disbelief.  Dean grimaced, guilt flashing across his face as he looked away from the inquiring faces. 

“Last year, well, Dean wasn’t exactly Dean,” Sam trailed off rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced at Dean.

All eyes were trained on Dean now; Sam’s apologetic as Dean looked at his brother while Coulson’s, Barton and the woman, Romanov were blank.  Stark and Steve’s were shrewd but a hint of curiosity flashed through the brown and blue depths.  The look Wilson was giving Dean was one he had seen on countless therapists and Dean balked, his defenses rising at the sight.  Dean looked at Bucky last and the impenetrable blue stare was filled with a sort of wary guilt that Dean had no idea how to interpret. 

Huffing a sigh, Dean shuffled his feet as he leaned more fully against the Impala, he did not want to deal with this right now.  It was bad enough he owed his life to these people, not to mention the whole Death’s scythe being in the hands of some freaky Nazi cult, now his whole year as a demon had to come up. 

“Meaning? What, was he not some vampire killing Buffy Summers wannabe?” Stark jeered with a slap to the Captain’s shoulder who frowned in return at the genius. 

“You act like being compared to Buffy’s an insult,” Dean snorted then groaned as he pulled his side.  A little grin lifted Stark’s mouth as the man shrugged in acknowledgement. 

“Why Dean is unaware of the ins and outs of SHIELD and the Avengers is immaterial, frankly it is refreshing.  We are here for a consultation on the object in Hydra’s possession,” Coulson spoke up his calm voice grating on Dean’s nerves. 

“What weapon does Hydra have?” Sam asked an apprehensive look on his face. 

“Death’s scythe and now that you know, I believe our consultation is over.  So, if you don’t mind, my brother and I will be heading out cause, frankly, I’m beat,” Dean snapped as he stood up and tossed the keys to Sam. 

“Wait, what, you can’t be serious Dean,” Sam exclaimed, unknowingly cutting off Coulson’s own protest.

“Of course I’m serious Sam, I mean come on, it’s not like Hydra will be able to do anything with it.  Hell, I bet whoever tried to pick it up bit the dust as soon as they laid a hand on the thing,” Dean shook his head in exasperation.   

“Coulson didn’t tell you that and it wasn’t in the report he showed you.  How do you know that?” Captain America demanded taking a step towards Dean, jaw clenched.

Dean gave a humorless chuckle, the one that always caused Sam’s eyes to pinch and his lips draw into a thin line.  Dean didn’t care, he was finished with this night and the Avengers.  Dean caught Bucky’s eyes as he moved around to the passenger side of the car.  People probably thought the soldier’s look was unreadable, but Dean knew better.  This was a man who had his will taken away, his mind and body used by a ruthless organization, a man who had been nothing but a tool for Hydra.  Dean felt the bile rise in his throat, fucking humans.  Dean tore his eyes away from Bucky and shot Sam a look as he opened the Impala’s door.       

“We’ll look into it,” Sam said as Dean ignored everyone else and climbed into the Impala.  Dean didn’t hear what Coulson said, but he watched as the agent slipped his card into Sam’s hand.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments or Kudos!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for the feedback and kudos :)
> 
> As always all mistakes are my own and I do not own these characters

It had been a week since their encounter with the Winchester brothers and Bucky wanted to rip his hair out.  Steve was driving him insane, he loved his best friend he really did, but the man was not patient especially when it came to Hydra.  Bucky continued to be impressed by Coulson’s calm demeanor in the face of Captain America’s irritable attitude.  The agent was once again calmly explaining to Steve that they had to wait for the Winchesters intel before they went barging into a Hydra base unprepared.  Bucky watched with slight smirk as his friend sputtered in the face of that logic.  Finally, taking mercy on Steve and Coulson, Bucky went over to his friend and dragged him away towards the elevator and kindly asked JARVIS to take them down to the gym.  Bucky was going to help Steve with all of this pent up energy by beating it out of his best friend and hopefully get a good workout for himself in. 

Thankfully the gym was deserted as Bucky dragged Steve to the mats in the center of the floor.  They both slipped their shoes off and Steve stripped his sweatshirt, leaving the muscle shirt on as Bucky stood in the center of the mats in his t-shirt and sweats, metal plates whining as he settled into a crouch, fists raised.  Steve came at him like a freight train, muscles coiled and snapping out with unmatched strength.  Bucky countered the initial attack and soon he and Steve fell into a rhythm of ruthless and no holds barred blows, both of them falling into focus as their super soldier personas emerged.  Bucky planted Steve on his back a while later and his friend tapped out, breathing harsh as sweat beaded both of their bodies.  Bucky stood a moment later and pulled his best friend to his feet, Steve looking over his shoulder as Sam entered the gym. 

“Winchesters called, they’re on their way.  Should be getting here tomorrow morning,” the Falcon called out as he made his way over to Bucky and Steve.         

“So, what do you think of them?” Steve nodded as he quirked his brow at Sam.

“Honestly, I’ve got no idea, hard to really get a read on either of them.  Never mind that Dean was dying when we approached him and he truly didn’t care.  Seeing what they dealt with in that barn, I can only imagine the extent of their PTSD,” Sam grimaced and Bucky knew the therapist in Sam was cringing at the thought.

PTSD was something Sam had helped him with over the past year.  Bucky could recognize his triggers and Sam had taught him how to bring himself out of the tailspin and suffocating decent into the Winter Soldier.  He wasn’t a slave to his conditioning any longer and for that, Bucky was grateful.  The memories, however, were something else entirely.  All of the coping mechanisms Sam taught him would go out the window once a memory accosted him.  Bucky’s body would shut down as frozen as the icy terrain Hydra had uncovered him from while grisly memories played out in his head.  Bucky wondered how Dean Winchester dealt with his PTSD and what the man felt when he was consumed by memories.       

“Buck?” Steve’s voice was worried as it dragged Bucky out of his thoughts.   

“Dangerous,” Bucky grunted.

“Well, obviously,” Steve sighed as he rubbed his hand through his hair, the sweat causing it to spike. 

“Then I guess it all depends on how much you trust Coulson,” Bucky shrugged, bending down to slip his shoes back on. 

“We need to see what other information Coulson has on them because vampires sure as hell weren’t in the initial briefing,” Sam pronounced giving Steve a serious look. 

“I agree with you Sam, but Buck, I want your opinion,” Steve’s eyes were level and slightly imploring. 

Bucky’s jaw clenched as he thought back to that night a week ago.  He thought about the man he had seen slumped over on a bale of hay, blood dripping from the machete and gun trained on Steve.  Dean Winchester.  He was bloody and broken, surrounded by death and waiting for his own.  Bucky had seen a lot of death over the decades; he himself had been the cause of most of it.  Bodies shouldn’t faze him anymore, then again, most of his kills were clean and instantaneous.  It’s probably one of the reasons he was having such a hard time with the scene from the barn.  Decapitation was not an easy feat, it required skill and strength all accompanied by a sharp blade.  It was a brutal way to die, a fierce way to kill.  The Winchesters had taken the heads off of six people; vampires, monsters who came from legends and were apparently real and these two brothers could kill them and apparently did on a regular basis.  Coulson sought them out for a reason; they held knowledge and had skills no one else had. 

Dean Winchester made the Winter Soldier stir in the depths of Bucky’s mind.  Of course they were dangerous.  Yet, Bucky couldn’t help but remember Dean’s face as the man sat resigned and covered in blood.  The way shock followed by resigned gratitude filtered across his face as Bucky helped staunch his bleeding wounds.  In that moment, Bucky felt a fierce determination usually reserved for Steve well up inside him; he wasn’t going to let Dean Winchester die.                              

“He was the first person who didn’t look at me like I was about to end their life,” Bucky gave a wry grin and Steve’s face flushed in grief.       

****

It was late afternoon when Bucky and the rest of the Avengers were gathered in the living room waiting for Coulson.  The agent had sent a message asking for the team to gather for a briefing before the Winchesters arrived.  Bucky was glad for it and he knew Steve was too judging by the relief that flashed across his friends face when their phones beeped earlier with Coulson’s message.  Bucky had showered quickly before heading up to the Avengers common floor for the meeting.  The team appeared to be lounging around as they waited for Coulson, but Bucky could see the tense and wary lines in everyone’s faces.  This mission so far was full of holes and unknown variables which set everyone on edge. 

Bucky’s ears perked as the elevator opened and Coulson’s soft steps made their way towards the group.  A massive file was unceremoniously dropped on the coffee table in front of Bucky and Steve.  Off to the side, near the bar, Bucky heard Stark and Barton groan.  He couldn’t blame either of them, it was an impressive file and there was only one copy which Bucky found odd. 

“Why is there only one copy and for that matter why is it not on SHIELD’s server?  This would be so much easier if JARVIS could just pull it up,” Stark whined as he plopped down next to Steve on the couch.         

“Coulson obviously didn’t want anyone else to have access to this information, Stark,” Natasha’s voice was dry as she slid into a seat opposite Bucky and flipped open the file. 

“Is it seriously that important?  Out of all the information SHIELD could have and should have kept out of the bad guys hands, a file on some brothers is the one he picks,” Stark snorted in derision. 

“It wasn’t always the case, the information used to be accessible to SHIELD personnel,” Coulson acknowledged.

“So what happened, why remove it from record?” Steve asked eyes intent on Coulson. 

“Dean Winchester was 22 years old when Fury sent me to shadow him for possible recruitment.  SHIELD had their eye on him for some time.  He was a high school drop out with a militaristic upbringing and a police record that was growing every year.  It wasn’t until his brother left for college that we felt it was time to approach him with our offer,” Coulson’s eyes were distant.

“I take it recruitment didn’t go as planned,” Barton chuckled and Coulson shot him a withering look. 

“No, it did not Clint, Dean Winchester gave his answer by shooting me.  Suffice to say I took it as a ‘no’,” a small smile played on the agent’s mouth.  Bucky was shocked, from what he heard very few people could get the drop on Coulson.

“Little did Fury and I know, but we didn’t have all of the facts at the time,” Coulson continued through the stunned silence, “Dean Winchester’s life wasn’t so black and white.  After I got out of the hospital and after Fury cursed me out, I went back to our intel on Dean and his family and found a supernatural world of monsters hiding among our own.”

“Hydra’s obsession with the occult, that’s the reason you and Fury got rid of all the information on the Winchesters,” Bucky hung his head, a weary sigh escaping his throat. 

“Yes, but Fury and I knew the benefits of having the information so we kept a single file, one I have kept updated over time as we followed Dean and Sam from a distance,” Coulson tapped the file on the coffee table.

“They must have known or there must have been times you lost track of them,” Stark spoke up, hands fiddling with his phone. 

“I don’t know if Dean ever suspected I was still keeping tabs on him.  But, yes, we would lose track of them every now and again,” Coulson admitted, he was clearly disgruntled by these failures. 

Bucky stared at the file still being leafed through by Natasha.  The Black Widow’s face was impassive, but Bucky was the Winter Soldier and he could read the small tremors that ran through her body, he could read the tightening around her eyes and he knew what dread looked like.  Dangerous.  Just how dangerous though was the question.  Dangerous enough that Fury and Coulson knew they needed to destroy all traces of these two men.  Dangerous enough that Coulson was willing to ask for their help in bringing down SHIELD’s greatest threat.           

“Both men have been on the FBI’s Most Wanted list and FBI reports state they’ve been declared legally dead on multiple separate occasions,” Natasha’s voice was sardonic as she arched an eyebrow at Coulson.  Dangerous.  Bucky glanced over at Steve’s grim face, his best friend’s blue eyes steady on the agent. 

“There is something you need to understand about the Winchesters.  There is only one thing that comes before family and that is the fate of the world which is why I trust them to do the right thing and help us.  But threaten either one of them and you will find yourself at the other end of a bullet,” Coulson nodded to each of them before he made his way back to the elevator leaving silence in his wake. 

Bucky stared after the man as the rest of the Avengers took up various positions around Natasha and proceeded to read over her shoulder.  Steve made eye contact with Bucky and tilted his head towards the empty space next to the super soldier, an invitation for Bucky to join them.  Distaste curled in Bucky’s gut, his mouth turning down in a frown.  It didn’t seem right reading Dean’s file after he had met the man and helped patch him up.  Bucky had discerned more about Dean in those couple of hours in that barn than he needed.  He knew what type of man Dean Winchester was.  He liked the type of man Dean Winchester was.  Bucky’s head snapped up, drawing a concerned look from Steve which the former assassin ignored.  He genuinely liked Dean.  Bucky dropped his chin to his chest as he felt the Winter Soldier programming shift in the back of his mind; he wasn’t the only one who liked Dean. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments or Kudos!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for the comments and kudos :)
> 
> It looks like this is going to be about 8 chapters and it will be completed by the end of this week!!
> 
> As always all mistakes are my own and I do not own these characters

Dean stared at the reflective paneling of the elevator, jaw clenched as Sam babbled on his right.  Sam had insisted on meeting with the Avengers about half way through the research process and Dean had adamantly disagreed.  Of course he lost the argument and it didn’t matter to Sam that they were about to announce themselves to an uncompromising terrorist organization with delusions of grandeur.  Dean wanted to crack his head against the elevator wall.  The elevator chimed moments later and the doors slid open cutting off whatever Sam had been mumbling about.  Dean’s face went slack as he stepped out and took in the view in front of them.  Stark was filthy fucking rich.  Dean knew this, objectively speaking, but it was completely different seeing all the wealth and technology with his own eyes.  The Avengers and Coulson were sitting before him and Sam on various couches with a coffee table in the middle, all of which probably cost more than Dean would care to think about.  Captain America – Steve, Dean needed to remember to call him that rose as Dean and his brother made their way over.        

“Thank you both for coming,” Steve cordially shook both Dean and Sam’s hands.

Dean nodded as his eyes trailed over the remaining Avengers while Sam rambled some pleasantries; Dean was sure there was a compliment thrown in there about the tower.  Dean’s eyes landed on Bucky, the soldier already staring at him with intense blue eyes.  A smile stole over Dean’s face as he ambled over to the former assassin, Bucky’s eyes widening in alarm as Dean stopped in front of him.  Sam Wilson was seated next to the man and Dean gave him a friendly nod catching Wilson’s slight smirk as Dean turned his attention back to Bucky.  The soldier’s face was impassive once again as he studied Dean whose smile only grew wider. 

“Coulson told us how you met and gave us your file.  I have to say, you’ve done some messed up shit,” Stark’s voice brought Dean’s head around, green eyes clashing with the billionaires’.              

“You kept tabs on me?” Dean’s head swiveled to face the agent.

“What little I could, yes.  I know it’s not a complete file,” Coulson stated as he stared at Dean. 

“Right, because that makes it okay and you all just, what, read it and think you can pass judgement,” Dean was furious as his eyes locked onto Sam’s, his brother’s face pinched and scowling. 

“Well, Barnes didn’t for whatever reason,” Stark drawled, not even the slightest bit remorseful.  Dean’s head snapped back around to face Bucky who was staring straight ahead before slowly turning his eyes back to Dean.

“You don’t know mine; I don’t need to know yours after all it can’t be worse than mine.  The only thing that matters is your willingness to help us stop Hydra,” Bucky shrugged his shoulders, the metal catching in the sunlight.  Dean was stunned, eyes wide as he felt the slow burn of gratitude curl through his chest. 

“Of course we’ll help you,” Sam answered for both of them causing some of the tension to ease from the room.

“Thank you,” Steve’s voice was quiet but firm as appreciation shown in his eyes. 

“On one condition,” Dean said ignoring Sam’s groan of annoyance, “we get to see our file.”

Coulson nodded his head in acceptance, a slight smile flitting across his face.  Black Widow, Natasha, Dean had learned everyone’s names and alias when he and Sam had conducted their research, slid the thick file over as Dean and Sam dropped down into two chairs.  The file held a lot of information from the basics of date of birth and physical descriptions to more in depth details such as the location of the bunker.  Dean’s skin itched as he and Sam flipped to that page and he looked at the aerial of the Impala next to the entrance to their current base and home.  Dean shared a look with Sam before continuing on to the reports filed by Victor Hendrickson and the FBI.  Dean quickly bypassed those until he came across a report detailing all of the death surrounding them, including their own or at least the ones where they were declared legally dead.  Dean stared at the list of names, guilt and rage searing through his body, burning his throat. 

“You’ve been declared dead quite a few times.  Must make it easier to stay off radar that way,” Natasha’s voice was steady as Dean’s eyes rose to meet hers’. 

“The times we we’re actually dead made it easy too,” Dean smirked flipping to the next page of the file showing the dates when he and Sam weren’t active or had disappeared completely. 

He flipped the file around to show the group sitting on the couch.  The first set of dates were the four months from when Dean was in Hell then the year he was with Lisa and Sam was in the Cage and his time in Purgatory.  It was all there, the long stretches of time where either one of them was absent.  Dean had to grin because yes, SHIELD had all of this information on them but it amounted to nothing because Coulson wasn’t able to make heads or tails of it.  The agent didn’t know why he and Sam were inactive, didn’t know about the Apocalypse, Heaven’s Civil War, the Leviathan, or the Mark.  Coulson just knew he needed Sam and Dean and that gave Dean some relief.  He never liked someone knowing all about them; it always left him and his brother one step behind. 

****

Bucky’s breath stuttered, catching in his throat as he tried to make sense of Dean’s words.  Dean had died and yet he was sitting across from Bucky, it shouldn’t have been possible.  He reached forward and slid the file closer to him and Steve while the other Avengers looked over their shoulders.  The series of dates on the page didn’t seem all that important especially since Natasha and Coulson hadn’t commented on them, yet Dean clearly considered these time periods more important than the dates of their legal deaths.  Bucky’s eyes flickered up and met shadowed green ones.  Bucky drew in a sharp breath; these were the actual times Dean and Sam died. 

“Is this how you know about Death’s scythe?” Bucky’s voice was gruff as he watched Dean’s eyes clear. 

“Actually no, that’s a different tale, although part of the same story I suppose,” Dean stated, his hand moving to rub a spot on his forearm. 

“Wait, so you’ve actually died and you’re saying that’s not the reason you know about Death’s scythe.  I thought once someone has bit it they got to meet the Grim Reaper?” Barton spoke up as confusion and curiosity laced his voice.               

“That’s not how it works,” Sam huffed out a chuckle as he cocked his head at Dean indicating for his older brother to take over.

“The Grim Reaper you’re thinking of is Death, you know Horseman of the Apocalypse and the end all be all of life.  Well, Death happens to have thousands of grim reapers working for him, those are the guys you meet when you die and they send you off to the afterlife.  Although, if you’re real important then sometimes you get a visit from Death himself,” Dean shrugged like it was the simplest thing in the world, like he hasn’t been rearranging Bucky’s world view since the moment they met.    

“So, you met Death when you died? Or have you not met Death?” Sam’s confused voice matched the rest of the Avenger’s faces.

“Uhhh no, my reaper is Tessa.  I met Death when I was very much alive, can’t say the same for everyone in the pizza joint I met him at was,” Dean trailed off with a grimace. 

“Why would you have met Death outside of actually being dead?” Steve’s eyes were shrewd as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. 

“The Apocalypse,” Sam answered, face open in its honesty.  Incredulous silence fell over the Avengers; Bucky stared at the two men in front of him and found no trace of deceit in their faces or body language.    

“How did we not hear of this?” Steve demanded, head turning towards Coulson.

“Probably because you were still frozen and Stark was still making weapons at the time, you weren’t a team yet.  Hell, superheroes were just a comic book story,” Dean snorted as he leaned back against the chair, legs splayed and shirt pulling tight over his body. 

“Steve, this fight with the supernatural isn’t anything new.  We’ve been doing it our whole lives.  There are families of hunters who have been doing it for generations,” Sam’s voice was calm, placating in a way that Bucky knew was riling his best friend up even more. 

“Then why hasn’t SHIELD or anyone else been a part of it or made aware of this supernatural problem?” Wilson spoke up as he laid a hand on Steve’s shoulder.

“SHIELD didn’t know until Fury and I delved into Dean’s history,” Coulson reminded the team. 

“As for everyone else and I assume you mean the government when you say that, let’s just say they’re more inclined to lock hunters up than listen to us,” Dean rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“So you work as vigilantes which makes sense.  With the list of crimes you both have been accused of it’s no wonder the feds would be more inclined to throw you in solitary rather than believe your story,” Falcon reluctantly agreed. 

“Saving people, hunting things the family business,” Dean murmured by rote, eyes landing on Bucky.         

“How long have you been doing this, hunting the supernatural?  How do you even get in to something like this?” Bucky leaned forward, matching Steve’s position.  His eyes flickered over Dean as the hunter unconsciously copied his movements bringing him closer to Bucky as sorrow flashed across Dean’s face. 

“Our mom died when Sammy was a baby and I was four, house fire.  Dad didn’t take it all that well.  Then he found out it was a demon that killed her and there was this whole world of supernatural monsters lurking in the dark.  Ended up packing up the Impala and we just drove across the country, Dad taking on hunts and learning the game as he looked for the demon.  Eventually, both me and Sam were old enough to start training and learning the ropes too.  The rest is, well, in that file,” Dean smirked but his eyes were vacant and Bucky didn’t think for one moment the rest of their lives were in that file.       

Bucky gazed at the man’s face, the freckles and brilliant green eyes which held haunted depths and yet were surrounded by laugh lines.  Dean Winchester.  Bucky’s hands had been covered in the man’s blood; he had seen resignation in those green eyes and Bucky’s chest had been engulfed in heat melting away the frigid tension and fear of his own self.  He had felt the Winter Soldier stirring at Dean’s presence in a way that usually would have caused Bucky concern.  Yet, the warmth which awakened the remnants of the programing was a liberation and one not associated with the vast freezing space of Siberia.  Bucky had felt the melding between himself and the Winter Soldier as Dean’s blood spilled over his hands.  Bucky didn’t avert his eyes away from Dean even as the silence filled the room.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments or Kudos!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey there double update..
> 
> As always all mistakes are my own and I do not own these characters

Phil felt a stress headache growing as he watched Dean and Bucky study each other.  Unsurprisingly subtly was not one of Dean’s strengths, it was, however, supposed to be one of Barnes’.  Phil made eye contact with Natasha who just shook her head with a slight smirk; he knew they had come to the same conclusion.  Phil repressed a sigh as the hunter and former Hydra asset continued to be oblivious to the silence that surrounded them.  Phil glanced at Sam Winchester, the man clearly purposefully ignoring his brother as he continued to flip through the file.  Steve’s face told another story, the Captain’s jaw somewhat slack before realization flashed across his face.  Phil watched wholly amused as Steve shot a protective glare at Dean which went unnoticed. 

“Alright, well if the Manchurian Candidate and Buffy could stop making eyes at each other for one minute, could we please figure out how we’re going to take down this Hydra base and retrieve the scythe,” Stark’s voice snapped both Dean and Bucky out of their silent appraisal of each other.  Phil watched Dean glare at Stark’s smug smile while Bucky blinked, eyes darting to Steve in confusion. 

“We have all the information we need on the base, it’s the extraction of the scythe which we need your help with,” Phil addressed Dean and Sam. 

“Just get us in, you guys take care of Hydra and I’ll grab the scythe,” Dean stated with an unconcerned shrug. 

“Wait, you know that thing kills whoever touches it,” Wilson piped up, eyebrows arched.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean’s smile was small, his eyes dark as they met Sam’s.    

“I’m worried about it, anyone else worried about it?” Falcon gave Dean a skeptical look before he glanced around at the other Avengers. 

“Look Sam, Dean and I have been doing this for a long time, we’ll get the scythe out safely,” Sam Winchester placated, hazel eyes catching Phil’s.

“They’re the experts, they will handle the weapon,” Phil stated as Stark and Wilson grumbled in resigned acceptance. 

Phil listened intently over the next several minutes as the details were hashed out among the group.  Dean wasn’t too thrilled about flying across the Atlantic but it was unavoidable.  They would leave in the morning and Phil sadly was not going to be accompanying them, instead he would remain at the Tower and monitor the group’s activity with JARVIS.  It was lunch by the time the meeting wrapped up, Dean and Clint complaining about the lack of food as both men ambled towards the kitchen.  Natasha offered to show Sam to his and Dean’s room which the younger hunter readily accepted.  Stark grabbed some coffee before heading back down to his workshop most likely completing last minute alterations to the suit.  Phil turned and caught Wilson and Steve eyeing Bucky, the brunette soldier had a cornered look as the Falcon and Captain advanced on him.  Phil just smiled as he made his way to the elevator and down to Stark’s lab. 

****

Bucky eyed Steve and Sam warily as the two men barricaded his escape route, arms folder over their chests and stern but intent looks on their faces.  Bucky felt a flush creep up his neck as he shifted uncomfortably on his feet unsure of why Steve and Sam felt the need to box him in.  The three soldiers moved over to the bar, Sam and Steve taking a seat while Bucky moved behind the counter giving him some space.  He knew what this was about; although he was honestly surprised Steve had picked up on his curiosity about Dean.  That’s all it was too, curiosity.  How could he not be curious about this man, this hunter?  Bucky withheld a groan; he didn’t even sound convincing to himself.               

“Buck, are you going to be alright with this mission?” Bucky huffed in disbelief at Steve’s question.  Leave it to his best friend to try and go about this delicately as if Bucky was made of thin ice just waiting to shatter.  

“Of course Steve,” Bucky gave his friend a resolute look. 

He knew what Steve was asking about; this would be his first time going up against Hydra since Steve had found him.  Truthfully, Bucky was nervous.  He didn’t truly know the extent of Hydra’s conditioning and he did not have full control over the Winter Soldier.  Add in the new supernatural threat, well, Bucky’s control was shaken.   

“Barnes, therapy is about being honest with yourself and us,” Sam’s voice was reassuring, his eyes kind. 

“Last time I checked this wasn’t a therapy session,” Bucky said with a half-smile.

“No, but we’re your friends and you’ve been making good progress with coming to terms with the past.  You’re much more self-aware and you need to continue to be and not shut down,” Sam was firm as he continued to hold Bucky’s eyes. 

“You know when you shut down it just gives the Winter Soldier programming more control,” Steve gave Bucky a stern look, one he remembered from back alley fights in Brooklyn all those decades ago. 

“I don’t really know how much of a problem that’s going to be,” Bucky rubbed a hand through his hair as he looked at two confused and suspicious faces.    

“I think he likes Dean,” Bucky murmured, unsure of the looks he was receiving.

“The Winter Soldier programming?” Sam cleared his throat, voice strained in disbelief.  Bucky just nodded in confirmation, eyes slipping over to Steve.   

“How can you tell?” Steve’s face was impassive and Bucky would have been impressed if he wasn’t slightly worried at the sight.

Bucky didn’t know how to answer that, didn’t know how to explain to Steve what it was like having the Winter Soldier in his head.  Bucky knew he wouldn’t be able to tell Steve about how he and the Winter Soldier became less dissociative around Dean Winchester because it made absolutely no sense.  Bucky could admit he was attracted to Dean and the Winter Soldier seemed protective of Dean.  It wasn’t like Bucky knew what it meant any more than Steve did, for all he knew he was misinterpreting the feelings.  After all, he couldn’t fully trust his own mind.                  

“Just a feeling,” Bucky deflected as his eyes shifted towards the kitchen, ignoring Steve and Sam’s dissatisfied looks. 

**** 

Clint was a cool guy, Dean decided as he polished off his sandwich and Barton made his way out of the kitchen.  The archer was damn funny now that Dean and Sam weren’t seen as a complete threat to the Avengers and could be somewhat trusted.  Clint made that clear, he saw Dean and Sam as allies and even though they were helping out now, Dean should be prepared for an arrow through his chest should anything bad happen to Barton’s team, his family.  Dean could respect that, after all, the same went for Sam.  Although, Dean refrained from telling Clint that killing him would probably not be in the Avengers best interest.  His arm itched, the Mark running hot as Dean tossed his plate into the sink.  Dean rubbed his arm, most definitely not in the Avengers best interest.  

Sam was coming out of the elevator as Dean made his way out of the kitchen, quickly glancing at the three soldiers in deep conversation at the bar.  Bucky looked up at that moment and made eye contact with Dean, the former assassin flushing red and Dean had to smile and wink.  Bucky’s mouth dropped open and his apparent shock brought Wilson’s and Steve’s heads around, two sets of eyes landing on Dean.  Falcon grinned, a small chuckle escaping before turning back to Bucky whose eyes were still lazily trailing Dean’s face.  Steve on the other hand was in full Captain America mode or possibly just protective best friend mode, Dean didn’t think the two were that different when it came to Bucky.  With a nod to each man, Dean turned back to his brother startling at the smug look on Sam’s face.   

“What?” Dean asked as they climbed into the elevator, Sam pressing the button of the floor they would be staying on. 

“You seem pretty okay with this whole thing,” Sam gave him a perceptive look.  

“You saw that file Sammy, they have barely anything on us.  I mean sure, it mentioned the FBI records, the bunkers location which admittedly sucks, Chuck’s books and all but who would really believe that,” Dean shrugged as they exited the elevator.  The floor they were staying on was simple with a kitchen, living room, and what looked like two bedrooms with a bathroom down the hall. 

“Yeah, I noticed that too, there’s not a lot of mention of the monsters we’ve killed only just an overview of some over our more known cases,” Sam inclined his head as Dean opened the door to the first bedroom. 

“Exactly, and even those cases you can see Coulson had to do some major research on,” Dean snorted as he flopped down on the bed.

“True, he didn’t seem to get much right either,” Sam’s sigh of acceptance lifted some of the weight off Dean’s shoulders.    

“How much are we going to tell them?” Sam asked after a few minutes of silence.

“Only as much as they need to know to stay safe,” Dean groaned as he rubbed his hand over his face, arm itching under his flannel.

“Safe,” Sam huffed, “they’re not safe as long as they’re near us.”

“No shit Sam, you think I like this.  I just spent the last year as a demon; I tried to kill you and Cas and now we have to help a bunch of superheroes who don’t know shit about what they’re getting into.  What do you think would happen if demons decided to get cozy with the Avengers because we happen to be helping them out?” Dean’s voice was harsh, his breathing uneven. 

“Dean, they’re the Avengers, they can take care of themselves,” Sam said, exasperated. 

“Sam, they don’t know anything about our world and it will be safer for them if it stays that way,” Dean’s voice brokered no argument. 

“I think you’re seriously underestimating them.  They fought aliens or did you forget that,” Sam retorted.

“I did not, though I’m pretty sure I was in Purgatory at the time,” Dean rolled his eyes at Sam’s pursed lips and glare. 

“How do you feel about this plan?” Sam changed the subject and looked at Dean after a moment.

“Not a big fan of the flying part, but it should work as long as no one gets any funny ideas about grabbing the scythe and those Hydra goons are taken care of,” Dean’s lips curled in disgust, eyes flashing.   

“You can’t kill anyone Dean,” Sam’s voice was soft, “when we enter the Hydra base, you have to let the Avengers take care of everyone.  You cannot kill.”

“Where was this condition when it came to the vampires?” Dean ground his teeth, arm burning. 

“Different circumstances and you know that,” Sam was exasperated and Dean had to look away from the concern on his brother’s face. 

Silence echoed through the room as Dean stared at his brother.  He understood where Sam was coming from; Dean knew what he was capable of.  Dean’s bloodlust was temporarily sated after the vampire hunt and the Mark had been suspiciously quiet since their first meeting with the Avengers.  Dean didn’t like it, he hated being a ticking time bomb and everything about this case was setting him on edge.  Dean knew he wasn’t able to guarantee the Avengers safety from Hydra and whatever the organization was doing with Death’s scythe.  It bothered him, but not that much because he knew the team was better equipped to deal with Hydra and he was capable of handling the scythe.  It was the fact that he couldn’t guarantee everyone’s safety from himself and the influence the Mark still had over him.             

“The Avengers need to know for their own safety.  Dean we have to tell them, we can’t keep doing this and I know we can trust them.  They saved the world,” Sam implored.

“Sammy, I get what you’re saying, but how the hell are we supposed to explain the Mark to them and still expect them to listen to us,” Dean was sure the moment the Avengers found out about the Mark of Cain he and Sam would lose what little trust they had from the superheroes already. 

“Give them a little credit, they’ll understand,” Sam crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall.

“Understand.  They’re a bunch of heroes who, yes, have had shit experiences in life but let’s be honest, nothing compared to us.  I mean sure, apparently Barton has had some experience with mind control, but that’s not the same as possession and you know it,” Dean snapped as he watched his brother lowered his eyes in acknowledgment.    

“And Bucky?” Sam countered as his eyebrows rose to his hair line, a small knowing grin on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments or Kudos!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update/not finished when I said it was going to be. My brother ended up in the hospital and I had to fly out to fly him home and then fly back to my house after vacation. Anyways, thanks for sticking with me and for the comments and kudos!!
> 
> It's probably going to be 9 chapters because this one ended up being longer than the others :)
> 
> As always all mistakes are my own and I do not own these characters

Dean visibly startled at the abrupt change, eyes narrowing as he glared at Sam from the bed.  Dean clenched his jaw unwilling to admit that he was intrigued by Bucky Barnes and now thoroughly annoyed by the fact his brother had picked up on it.  Bucky had definitely lived a horrible life, one most likely full of holes from having his brain fried so much, if the reports the Black Widow dumped on the internet were to be believed.  Dean did believe those reports, wholeheartedly.  He had looked into those tormented blue eyes and knew this was a man trying to pick up the pieces of a shattered life and fuse them back together.  Dean knew all about that, knew the deep seated desire to shove the broken pieces back together in a way that would make sense of it all.  Unfortunately for Dean, he was past that, past trying to fix the broken pieces because most of his pieces weren’t there anymore, they were burnt up and made into smoke by hellfire.  The Mark flared, fire licking up Dean’s arm.  Dean didn’t want Bucky to burn too.                 

“What about Bucky?  Dude has a metal arm, he patched me up, he’s nice on the eyes.  I don’t know what you want from me Sam,” Dean deflected; face flushing as he realized what he said. 

“I don’t want anything from you Dean, can’t say the same for Bucky Barnes,” the sly smile that stole across Sam’s face was the last straw as Dean lunged for his brother putting Sam in a headlock. 

Sam’s laughter echoed throughout the room as Dean wrestled him onto the ground effectively sitting on his little brother’s back.  A giddy smile slipped across Dean’s face accompanied by the rush of warmth he hasn’t felt in far too long.  Sam continued to laugh breathlessly as he struggled to flip Dean off.  Dean shoved Sam’s face into the carpet one last time before he hopped off his brother although he couldn’t resist slamming Sam back down as the younger man tried to get up.  Dean fell back onto the bed, happy, as Sam rolled over and stood up with an affectionate grin on his face and a quiet goodnight as he left Dean with a soft smile.

****

Bucky made his way through the common area in the early hours of the morning.  New York’s lights cast a dull glow through the Tower as he stopped short, body tensing as a dark shape shifted in one of the chairs by the windows.  The light from the city below caught the broad shoulders and sharp features of Dean as the man turned slightly towards Bucky.      

“I read up on you, kind of hard not to when researching SHIELD and the Avengers,” Dean admitted into the silence, his voice soft and Bucky gave him a reassuring smile.  He wasn’t surprised; it would have been hard for Dean to not come across any information on him.

“The Winter Soldier, the programming is still there, I can feel it lurking in the back of my mind just waiting to be thawed,” Bucky shivered as he clenched his fists, “I’ve been brainwashed for the past 70 years, conditioned to be the perfect assassin for Hydra.  Sam says I’m making progress and I know I am, but I know he’s still in me, a part of me that’s not going to go away.”

“So you assimilate him,” Dean stated, green eyes focused on Bucky.

“How?  He views almost everyone as a threat and was created to take Hydras orders, to not think for himself or myself, the perfect soldier,” Bucky sighed as his shoulders dropped not missing the way Dean’s eyes flashed with pain. 

“Almost everyone?” Dean’s voice was quiet, curious. 

“So far Steve’s the only one who can bring me back and even then it usually takes a brawl,” Bucky hesitated and shook his head, eyes catching Dean’s steady green ones.  Bucky watched Dean’s eyes narrow; the hunter clearly picking up on the fact Bucky was hiding something.      

“So start with Steve.  I’m sure he’d be more than willing to help you,” Dean shrugged as he casually leaned back against the chair.  Bucky wasn’t fooled; he knew Dean was still curious about what he was hiding.  However, Bucky was just beginning to understand himself and he wasn’t entirely sure how Dean would react to the information. 

They sat in silence for some time as the city lights danced across Dean’s face and Bucky watched the hunter watch him.  Months ago Bucky would have felt like ripping his skin off if someone other than Steve watched him this closely.  Hell, Bucky still felt like it sometimes.  Yet, here he was sitting in the dark with Dean Winchester a man who he knows next to nothing about except that he’s dangerous.  Dangerous and beautiful. 

“What if I’m worse than what we’re going up against?” Dean’s voice was gruff as the question cracked the silence.    

“Hydra takes people, experiments on them and forces them to commit atrocities all in the name of some delusional ideology to cleanse the world.  How could you possibly be worse than that?” Bucky studied the man in front of him; he saw the guilt that haunted Dean’s eyes, the weight that bore down on his shoulders.   

“Yeah, well, they’re still human,” Dean rubbed his face, eyes exhausted as he warred with himself.  Bucky wondered how many times Dean has had this argument with himself, with his brother. 

“Which makes it worse.  They don’t have an excuse,” Bucky grit his teeth as the gears in his arm whirred. 

Bucky heard Dean shift in his chair.  He looked up in time to see the hunter’s eyes filled with gratitude before soft lips were pressed against his.  Bucky froze, the Winter Soldier froze, and it seemed as if the entire world was at a standstill.  Dean drew away slightly and Bucky leaned forward to follow the man’s lips, catching them softly.  The cold shattered and Bucky was engulfed in flames as he and Dean moved against each other.  Bucky withdrew after the quiet, heated moment and looked at Dean.  Dean whose face was relaxed with a slight cocksure grin that made Bucky want to pin the man down.  Bucky leaned back and gave Dean an inquiring look which made the hunter pause.          

“So, Sam doesn’t have a problem with you being attracted to men?” Bucky’s voice was low and unsure.  He knew times were different now than they were in the forties, but Bucky knew there were still people who weren’t accepting. 

“He’s slept with a demon and a werewolf.  Trust me, in our line of work being attracted to the opposite gender is the least of our worries,” Dean snorted out a laugh. 

“So have you slept with a supernatural creature?” Bucky’s interest was piqued and he felt reassured by Dean’s nonchalance. 

“An Amazon, although I didn’t know it at the time, we had a daughter who tried to kill me and Sam ended up killing her.  Also, does a fallen angel count?” Dean smirked at Bucky’s stunned expression. 

Dean chuckled as the man leaned forward and kissed Bucky again effectively wiping the stunned expression of his face.  Heat suffused Bucky’s body again as he cupped the back of Dean’s neck, fingers sliding through the short silky strands of hair.  Bucky sighed reluctantly into Dean’s mouth before pulling away slightly still breathing the same damp air as the hunter.  Bucky looked up slightly to meet Dean’s eyes the green dark in the subtle light of the city below them.  For the first time since Steve had found him Bucky felt warm, he felt whole and melted together in the presence of this man.    Bucky sighed, they needed to get back to their rooms and catch whatever bit of sleep they could before the mission, but Bucky didn’t want to leave.  He and Dean met in the middle as they moved for one last soft kiss, fingers intertwined for a brief moment before Bucky watched Dean step away and head back to the elevator.    

********

The scythe was located in the dead center of the compound.  Dean, Sam, and Bucky were situated behind a cluster of trees to the north of the complex which was backed up against a ridge.  Sam and Stark would be providing aerial support while Steve, Natasha, and Clint attacked from the south and provided a distraction.  Dean shifted on his feet and felt the cool metal of his gun nestled against his lower back.  The Mark was thrumming against his skin and Dean fought the bloody haze that crept at the edges of his vision.  Sam was not helping as he continued to cast Dean worried looks.  The cold metal hand which gripped Dean’s arm directly over the Mark brought Dean’s head up and calmed his breathing.  Dean didn’t even realize he had closed his eyes or that his breath was coming out in harsh pants.  Bucky’s calm blue eyes were as cold as the terrain surrounding the men and Dean felt himself stabilize as he looked into their depths, the hunger of the Mark fading away for the moment.    

An explosion sounded to the south, smoke rising as Stark flew overhead and sirens began to wail.  Dean nodded to Bucky and Sam as they quickly made their way towards the maintenance door they had been watching.  Dean could hear the shouts of the Hydra agents as they tried to defend the base against the assault of the Avengers.  Stark flew overhead again, repulsors blasting the agents as he set about destroying the compound.  Dean scanned their surroundings one last time as Bucky ripped the handle off the door as he hauled it off the hinges.  They entered a dark hallway and Bucky alerted the team that they were in.   

Dean’s blood was pumping, his senses screaming as they made their way through the complex guided by Stark’s AI and Coulson in Bucky’s ear.  So far the three of them hadn’t encountered any Hydra agents and Dean knew he wasn’t the only one who found that strange.  He could still hear the sounds of battle as they made their way deeper into the base and Dean ached to be out there fighting, but he had a mission and Dean knew his desire to fight, to kill, was because of the Mark.  Dean glanced at Bucky as they came to a set of reinforced steel double doors with what looked like a complex keypad on the wall. 

“JARVIS says the majority of the energy output is coming from behind this door,” Bucky whispered and Dean nodded.  That’s where Death’s scythe would be then and they just needed a way in.

Dean shouldn’t have worried and he should have known how they were going to get in if the previous door was any indication.  Bucky abruptly punched the keypad, ignoring the sparks that flew as metal connected with metal.  A low hiss sounded and Dean looked towards the door to see that it wasn’t open.  That didn’t deter Bucky as the soldier analyzed the seam down the middle before thrusting his metal hand in and wrenching the doors apart, muscles straining.  Dean’s jaw was slack as he watched the impressive display.

“Uhh, that works,” Sam mumbled as Dean met his brother’s wide eyes.  They quickly hustled through the destroyed doors as an alarm sounded through the hallway. 

They came to a stop on a metal walkway which circled the entire room and over looked an array of scientific machinery.  People, Hydra scientists, in lab coats were staring up at them with varying degrees of annoyance on their faces.  There was a man in the middle and Dean almost snorted as he turned towards them and revealed a clean shaven face with a monocle.  Recognition flashed across monocle man’s face as he looked at Bucky.  A slow, satisfied smile crept over the man’s features and Dean did not like it, the Mark humming back to life as it picked up Dean’s thoughts. 

“Welcome back Soldier.  I knew it wouldn’t be long before you came home,” the man’s smoothly accented voice grated on Dean’s nerves as he clenched his jaw, blood rushing and fire licking up his arm. 

“Creepy much man? I mean as if the monocle wasn’t enough, we get it your evil,” Dean couldn’t help but chuckle even as the man drew his weapon. 

“I am Baron Von Strucker and I didn’t know the Avengers were taking on interns.  They could have at least outfitted you better,” the Baron’s cool voice was amused even as he kept his eyes trained on Bucky.   

Dean snorted and rolled his eyes as Sam shifted his stance and Dean glanced over at his brother noticing the protective posture was directed towards Bucky.  Bucky, who was pale as the snow covering this frozen wasteland.  Dean reached out and gripped the soldier’s arm, his warm palm bringing Bucky out of his stupor as he glared at the man below them.  The smile dropped off the man’s face and he made a quick hand gesture, the doors behind him opening moments later.  Six Hydra soldiers spilled through the door as Dean, Sam, and Bucky raised their guns firing off quick shots as they moved for cover.  Dean could hear the man with the monocle shouting orders as Dean followed Sam to the metal staircase and Bucky covered them.  Dean and Sam reached the main floor diving behind one of the machines as bullets ricocheted.  Bucky was next to them moments later, a cool sheen of sweat on his face and Dean did not like the tense line of his mouth.   

“I must admit I am curious as to why you are here.  I know destroying Hydra bases is a favorite past time of your Captain America, but I figured that’s all this would be and then you three come in with such determination.  I wonder why that is?” Von Strucker’s voice echoed through the room as the Hydra agents stopped firing.

Bucky stepped around Dean and fired six quick shots before smoothly turning back; Dean heard six solid thumps hit the concrete ground moments later.  Bucky nodded to Dean, eyes cold and remote before he moved out from behind the machine and faced Strucker.  Dean and Sam quickly followed as they flanked the soldier. 

“SHIELD heard about our little project I take it,” Von Strucker eyed them contemplatively as the remaining scientists emerged from cover.  Dean blinked in disbelief as the Hydra scientists went back to analyzing data and performing tests.  Dean snorted; these bastards were dedicated to a lost cause.    

“You got that right and that’s exactly why SHIELD sent us.  Now, move and no one gets hurt while we just take that out of your hands,” Sam stated as he indicated to the scythe in the center of the room. 

“Oh, people are going to get hurt,” Von Strucker’s smile was malicious as he began to recite a list of words in what sounded like Russian. 

Dean exchanged a confused look with Sam before turning to Bucky.  Bucky who was standing frozen, his blue eyes wide with shock as fine tremors coursed through his body.  Conditioned for 70 years.  Dean’s body tensed as he smoothly stepped in front of Bucky, subconsciously blocking Sam.  Dean stared at Bucky’s impassive face, smooth and cold as marble with startling blue eyes.  The Winter Soldier, not Bucky.  Dean felt his stomach drop as cold dread filled his bones.  Icy blue eyes rose to meet Dean’s green ones and he felt the Mark spark to life, heat fissuring out and crawling up his arm.  Dean was dimly aware of Von Strucker spitting something out in Russian and the Winter Soldier answered.  Dean watched Bucky’s lips move and curl around the words of the foreign language before the soldier’s focus strayed to Sam. 

“Don’t you even think about going after my brother,” Dean snarled, arm throbbing as heat flared through his body and the world started to bleed red. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments or Kudos!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, sorry everyone that it's been almost a month since I've updated this. One more chapter to go!
> 
> Thanks for all the comments and kudos, you're all wonderful :)
> 
> As always all mistakes are my own and I do not own these characters.

The Winter Soldier halted, eyes pulled back to Dean and Bucky was screaming within his own mind.  Screaming as he felt cold dread well up in the pit of his stomach.  The Winter Soldier pushed the feeling aside as he took a menacing step towards Dean.  Dean stood his ground, fists clenched as Sam slowly backed away from behind his brother as the Winter Soldier advanced.  Bucky felt as though he was starring through sheer ice as his body moved towards Dean.  He could see the hunter, but Dean’s voice was muffled and he could barely make it out through the cold barrier.  Bucky couldn’t respond, but the Winter Soldier did.  It was a garbled Russian threat about Sam; one Dean clearly didn’t understand and also didn’t care for judging by the indignant flash that crossed his features.  Bucky was still fighting for possession as the Winter Soldier eyed Dean critically and it was that momentary pause that forced Bucky to hesitate and assess the situation as well. 

Other than the initial threat in Russian which was directed towards Sam, the Winter Soldier had made no indication he was going to attack Dean.  A fact Dean hadn’t picked up on yet being too worried about his brother’s safety.  But Bucky has been coming to terms with the steady and warm presence that Dean provided not just himself but the Winter Soldier too.  The Winter Soldier liked Dean; he probably liked Dean before Bucky could even understand what was going on.  It was the only reason Dean wasn’t currently lying in a pool of blood and Dean didn’t even know it.  Von Strucker did if the sharp Russian command was anything to go by. 

Bucky felt his body snap to attention, the Winter Soldier refocus on Von Strucker’s command to kill Dean.  Bucky felt the Winter Soldier’s hesitation as he moved closer towards the hunter and Dean’s warmth which seemed like an inferno melting his cold edges.  Bucky attacked the Winter Soldier conditioning with everything he had and he could feel his control lock back into place for a moment.  One single scalding moment before the Avengers crashed through the stairwell, Dean’s fist connected with his jaw, and ice froze his veins.   

****

Heat scalded his body and Dean’s desire for blood made his vision burn as his fist connected with Bucky’s jaw; because it was Bucky for that brief moment and Dean felt his body cool too late.  Dean ignored the shout of the Avengers around him as they launched themselves at Von Strucker and the additional Hydra agents that began pouring in out of nowhere.  He was too busy fending off the Winter Soldier’s attacks and returning his own.  The Mark was singing as Dean’s fist connected with the Soldier’s face, nose cracking and blood spurting.  Bullets flew by and bodies hit the floor around them as Dean continued to duck and dodge the metal arm which lashed out with brutal precision.  He wasn’t quick enough though to counter the strike to his ribs from Bucky’s flesh hand or the sweeping kick that landed him on his ass.  Dean groaned as the Winter Soldier landed on him, hands wrapped around his throat as Dean struggled for breath. 

"This is going to seem real cliché," Dean sputtered as the Winter Soldier’s grip tightened.  Dean wrapped his arms around Bucky’s shoulders and pulled the man towards him, lips crashing together in a mix of blood and spit.  The Winter Soldier reeled back, shock coloring his face.  Dean felt a moment of satisfaction before a metal fist was crashing into the cement next to his head. 

"Yeah, alright, not the best plan," Dean groaned as he rolled out of the way and hauled himself to his feet.

****

Sam dove behind the beeping machines keeping an eye on Dean as he tried to make his way over to the Avengers.  He peeked around a corner and leveled his gun at the Hydra agent attacking Captain America, hitting the agent and sending the man careening into the Captain’s shield before the body slumped to the ground.  Steve looked up and nodded in Sam’s direction before turning to attack the other surrounding Hydra members.  Sam glanced around to gage the situation and quickly realized he and Dean had been in worse situations and at least they had backup this time around.  Sam looked back in time to see Steve disarm another agent before he heard the Captain’s voice ring over the comm link informing the team to gather at Sam’s location.  It took a few minutes but soon enough Sam was surrounded by the Avengers all in various battle weary states.    

“He was doing better, what happened?” Steve was looking at Wilson, jaw tense and eyes hard behind the cowl as his blue eyes flickered over to were Barnes and Dean were.

“I don’t know Steve, he’s made a lot of progress but we don’t know the extent of his conditioning,” Falcon answered, calm and eyes level.

“Strucker said a list of words to him in Russian and Bucky just shut down,” Sam spoke up drawing all eyes to him. 

“Verbal triggers to bring forth the Winter Soldier.  It had to have been the sequence Hydra used when they brought him out of cryo,” Romanov stated after a moment, her eyes continuously scanning their surroundings. 

“We have to stop him or Bucky will kill Dean,” Steve stated as the Captain looked back towards the Winter Soldier.  Sam turned to watch too and caught the sight of Dean’s fist connecting with Bucky’s jaw, blood trickling out of the side of the Winter Soldier’s mouth. 

“Well, he’ll certainly keep trying, but he probably won’t succeed,” Sam grimaced as Steve’s head whipped back around to look at him.   

“You seem a little too okay with this,” Stark stated, the mechanical voice clearly fishing for information. 

“Dean will be fine, he can hold his own.  Right now we need to focus on getting the scythe,” Sam ground out before turning to scan for a good access point to the scythe.

“Yeah, we can see that seeing as how he’s going toe to toe with the Winter Soldier right now,” Barton huffed with a slightly impressed look as they watched Dean dodge another uppercut.        

“Look, Dean can take a hit, but if he gets clocked with a metal fist he won’t be getting up anytime soon,” Sam snapped, exasperated.  It wasn’t like his brother was a super soldier after all and honestly, the two men fighting shouldn’t be the main concern right now. 

“Sam, I know our information is sorely lacking when it comes to the past years of yours and your brother’s life, but if this is something we need to know and will help with this mission, please inform the team as to why Dean can hold his own against the Winter Soldier,” Agent Coulson’s voice crackled over the link. 

“I really don’t think now’s the time,” Sam glared at the Avengers, trying desperately to think of some diversion, some way to get them back on track. 

“Sam,” Natasha’s softly commanding voice made Sam hang his head in defeat.

“Fine, short version then and don’t interrupt,” Sam grit his teeth, “it’s because of the Mark of Cain.  Dean spent the last year as a demon and not just any demon; he was the Knight of Hell.  We don’t have time to get into Hell’s hierarchy, but let’s just say there aren’t many things out there willing to go a few rounds with a Knight of Hell.  The Mark of Cain is exactly what it sounds like.  It’s the curse Lucifer gave to Cain and led to him killing Abel.  The Mark wouldn’t let Cain die and now that he’s passed it onto Dean the Mark won’t let Dean die either.” 

Sam watched the various stunned faces with grim satisfaction.  It was the sound of a sharp, harsh grunt followed by a sickening crack that brought everyone out of their stupor.  Sam and the Avengers lurched out from behind their protective cover to see Dean slowly get up from the mess of wires and machinery where the Winter Soldier just tossed him.  Blood caked Dean’s face and his jacket and flannel were gone leaving his brother in just a plain black t-shirt with rivulets of blood running down his arms.  Sam wasn’t focused on any of that though, no, his eyes honed in on the angry, dark scar on Dean’s forearm.  Sam swallowed; it looked alive and like it was burning through Dean again.  Although, not to the extent that it did when Dean was a demon, but still, it wasn’t a reassuring sight. 

Sam tore his eyes away from his brother and noticed he wasn’t the only one staring.  The Avengers were all looking at Dean with various expressions, eyes dipping down to his arm and then back to Dean’s face.  Sam sucked in a breath and looked back at his brother trying to see Dean like the Avengers would at that moment.  Sam halted with realization as he took in his brother’s state, they were in deep shit.  Sam looked at Dean and understood how the Avengers saw him right now.   He was a cursed man who had the ability to fight the greatest assassin.  A former uncontrollable and unparalleled demon.  A man with an ambiguous past and knowledge of a previously unknown world.  Dean was dangerous.  They were dangerous and now the Avengers were starting to fully realize it.  Sam just hoped they wouldn’t turn on them once this mission was finished.                

They needed to get their hands on Death’s scythe now.

“Dean,” Sam called out, “get the scythe, you’re going to have to fight him with the scythe.”

“That’s totally unfair Sammy,” Dean yelled back and Sam flinched as his brother caught another blow to his ribs.

“It looks pretty unfair right now,” Sam snapped back over his shoulder as he eyed the Avengers.  The Avengers who were all looking at him with distrust and suspicion, body’s taught and ready to attack.    

****

Dean rolls his eyes at his brother’s dramatics as he brought his knee up jamming it into Bucky’s gut.  The Soldier growls and grabs Dean’s leg, tossing him across the floor.  Luckily for Dean it was in the direction of Death’s scythe and he skids to a stop only a few feet away.  Dean looked back towards the Winter Soldier and noticed a fleeting glint in the man’s eyes.  Slowly rising to his feet, Dean turned towards the scythe only to find himself face to face with Von Strucker on the other side pointing a gun at him.  Dean froze, hands coming up defensively as he took in the barrel of the gun and the man’s face which held curiosity.  The man was looking at Dean like he wouldn’t mind sawing him open and seeing what makes Dean tick. 

Dean felt heat from the Mark seep out through his body and his stance relaxes.  He hears the Winter Soldier approach from behind and garbled Russian flow between the assassin and Von Strucker.  Dean’s eyes flicker over to see Sam and the Avengers in a standoff with the remaining Hydra agents, Sam’s eyes catching his and an understanding passes between the brothers.  Dean feels a metal hand curl around the back of his neck as he turns his attention back to the scythe and Von Strucker.  He reaches out as the hand tightens and watches as Von Strucker’s lips curl in an amused tilt.  Dean’s own lips stretch into a vicious, predatory grin as his hand closes around the rusted handle and he picks up the scythe.     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments or Kudos!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am terribly sorry for the late update, life got in the way but it's finished! Thanks to everyone who commented and left kudos and to all those who stuck around and asked for updates so I could get my butt in gear :)
> 
> As always all mistakes are my own and I do not own these characters

Everything but Dean stills in that moment and he can feel the shock ripple through the Hydra agents and the Avengers.  Dean’s eyes meet Von Strucker in front of him; the man no longer amused as he stares back at Dean, face devoid of color and dripping with fear.  The metal hand is still grasping his neck, but Dean easily shakes it off and steps away.  He tilts his head over his shoulder and finds himself face to face with Bucky, not the Winter Soldier.  Dean snorted, apparently the assassin programming knew how to make a strategic retreat. 

“Well, I think we’ll just be on our way.  Captain, I’m sure you and the Avengers can take care of Hydra,” Dean shot Steve a mocking smile as he twirled the scythe in his hands, the weapon elongating and losing its rusted weathered look.  

“Dean you don’t want to do this,” Steve tried to reason, hands held up in a placating gesture and shield strapped to his back.

Dean grunted with a small chuckle, eyes still trained on Von Strucker.  The Hydra leader had some color back in his face but the man’s eyes were still wide and frantic.  Although, they seemed to glow with a more manic glee than fear.  Dean was just going to have to fix that.  He could still feel Bucky breathing down the back of his neck, the metal plates of his arm shifting ever so slightly causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end.  Dean hesitated, he didn’t know how the Winter Soldier would react to Dean gutting Strucker and even though he still had the Mark, Dean wasn’t to inclined on getting his spine ripped out anytime soon. 

“Dean,” Sam’s voice echoed through the room causing Dean’s shoulders to lock at his brother’s tone. 

“You honestly think I should let this man live? C’mon Sammy,” Dean growled as he shifted the scythe in his hands. 

“We need him alive Dean, we need the information he has on Hydra’s operations,” Coulson voice was calm over the comm link. 

“You honestly think a man like this would ever give up any information he has?” Dean rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“Dean, we are very good at our job.  If he has any information, we would get it,” Romanov’s voice rang with certainty.  Dean cringed internally at the casual assumption that torture would always work and have no consequences. 

“Torture’s rarely justified,” Dean murmured, loud enough for only Bucky to hear. 

“How’d you get the scythe?” Dean asked louder, drawing all eyes to Strucker.

“We found it here.  Hydra has scans constantly running looking for unnatural occurrences and we found this one a few months ago,” Strucker’s voice was proud as his eyes slid over the scythe in Dean’s hands.

“How long did it take you to figure out that you wouldn’t be able to pick it up and use it?” Sam asked.  Dean heard the unspoken question, Sam wanted to know how many people died trying to pick it up before Strucker decided to just run tests.

“A month.  We lost quite a few good men and some prisoners in that time,” Strucker answered after a beat, “it wasn’t until I recalled the story of Excalibur that Hydra switched to just the scientific scans.”

“Yeah, but the sword didn’t fucking kill all the people who tried to remove it from the stone,” Dean’s jaw was grinding in disgust. 

“I must admit I am curious as to how you are able to hold it?” Strucker’s voice was smooth as he took a half step closer to Dean, hand raised as if he made to stroke Dean’s hand on the scythe.  Dean’s knuckles turned white around the handle as Strucker’s hand paused in midair. 

“Gotta admit, I’m curious too,” Clint’s voice piped up from behind.    

“It’s a long story,” Sam huffed as he sidled up next to Dean.  His little brother’s body turned slightly keeping Strucker and Bucky in sight.

“Why do I get the feeling everything is a long story with the two of you,” Stark’s mechanical voice somehow conveyed his sarcasm. 

“Cause it is and unfortunately it still isn’t over,” Sam gave a weary sigh.

“How Dean?” Bucky’s voice was strained and Dean pulled his eyes away from Strucker to glance back over his shoulder at solemn grey eyes.

“There’s three ways or rules, I guess, for someone who isn’t Death to be able to hold the scythe.  Death has to give you permission, you have to have been Death, or be the vessel for an archangel,” Dean’s shoulders drooped as he pulled his eyes away from Bucky.

“And which category do you fall under?” Strucker’s head was tipped curiously to the side.

“All three,” Dean shot the man a cheeky grin, hands smoothing up the handle as he ignored the startled and questioning sounds of the Avengers. 

“You knew all along that you were going to be able to pick it up, that’s why you told us not to worry,” Wilson’s voice was incredulous. 

“Yeah, it’s not the first time I’ve wielded something of Deaths’,” Dean shrugged, privately he knew it probably wouldn’t be the last.      

Movement caught the corner of Dean’s eye as Von Strucker made an aborted motion towards Dean, Sam’s gun now pressed firmly against the man’s forehead halting the Hydra leader in his tracks.  Dean glanced down and noticed a small canister with a needle tucked in Strucker’s hand.  Before the man could move against his brother, Dean brought the scythe up with a smooth sweep of his arm.  Sam let out a curse as the warm splatter of coppery blood gushed out of Von Strucker.  The man’s body dropped to the ground with a dull thud, the canister rolling out of his hand with a small clink.          

“What the hell Dean,” Sam snapped after a moment of silently staring down at the body.  

“Oh, what, did you want to find out what was in that thing he was about to jam in you?” Dean rolled his eyes as Sam shook his head in exasperation. 

“So what do we do with the scythe now?” Steve asked, cutting through the tense silence.  Dean turned away from his brother to face the Avengers, blood dripping off the scythe in an arc around his feet.    

“What do we do with it now? We give it back to Death and I find out why he didn’t have it in the first place,” Dean grumbled, lips turned down in annoyance as he glared down at the weapon in his hands. 

********

It was the early morning, pre-dawn light that greeted the Avengers and Winchesters as the quinjet landed on the platform of the Avengers Tower.  Bucky was sitting at the back of the jet, closest to the exit ramp and yet he waited for everyone to pass before getting up and walking off the quinjet himself.  Dean was a few feet in front of him, blocked in by Steve and Stark still in the Iron Man armor.  Bucky watched the slow roll of Dean’s shoulders as the hunters and Avengers walked through sliding glass doors. 

There was an elderly man in a dark suit, crisp white shirt, and wool coat sitting on the couch with a bag of greasy take-out food was crumpled up on the coffee table in front of him.  The man turned his head slightly, sharp features cast in profile of the rising sun as the Avengers cautiously made their way into the room. 

“Who are you, how’d you get in here?” Steve’s voice rang out into the tense silence, shield brought up into a defensive position as the rest of the Avengers spread out, battle ready. 

Bucky watched the man on the couch brought an oversized cup to his mouth, slurping through the straw.  But it was Dean who eventually drew everyone’s gaze as he moved forward.           

“Bought time you showed up.  After all, this is all because of you,” Dean grumbles as he stalked over to the couch. 

“Watch your mouth,” the dark suited man’s voice was calm and measured as he cocked an eyebrow at the hunter. 

“Dean, aren’t you going to introduce me to your new friends?” the question brought Dean up short.  The elder Winchester casting a quick glance towards his brother.  Bucky followed his gaze and almost startled at the drawn look and clenched jaw Sam was sporting.   

“Well, as I am sure you already know everyone,” Dean started after a beat as he glanced around, “uhh, everyone, this is Death.” 

Bucky stiffened, blood leaching from his face as the man placed the cup on the coffee table and stood facing the team.  In the back of his mind, Bucky felt the Winter Soldier curl in on himself, his instincts screaming to run and run far.  But Bucky knew, he knew there was nowhere he could run that would escape the being in front of him.  Bucky shuttered as Dean stepped in front of him.  The hunter’s broad shoulders turned protectively towards Bucky.  Dean turned towards Death, holding out the scythe as the omnipotent being gave it a cursory glance and a slight smile. 

“You are going to need it,” Death’s eyes flashed with something Bucky didn’t understand.

“What?  Why?” Dean clearly didn’t either.

“To kill Amara of course, unless you had another idea,” Death’s voice was patronizing as Dean stared grudgingly ahead, “no, didn’t think so.” 

“Why not just give it to me then, why go through all this?” Dean’s hands waved, the scythe slicing through the air. 

“Dean, you know I can’t just take sides,” Death sighed, head tilting as he indicated to the other Avengers “also, I figured it was about time you all should meet, after all, they’re going to need you and Sam.”  

Steve’s eyes widened ever so slightly at that announcement and Bucky could sense everyone’s body coiling ever so tighter.  Dean, if anything, just seemed more disgruntled while Sam looked troubled, a small crease forming between his eyes.  Bucky couldn’t understand it, he couldn’t fathom how the brothers could stand here and face Death like it was an average occurrence.     

“What about the Mark of Cain?” Sam inquired as he stood shoulder to shoulder with his brother.

“The Mark is connected to Amara, kill her and you are free of it,” Death tilted his head in acknowledgment.

Dean and Sam exchanged a heavy look, tension bleeding out of the pairs shoulders.  Bucky hadn’t even realized how much weight had been grinding down on Dean until some of it was lifted.  A crinkle of paper brought his gaze back to Death.  He had reached down and grabbed one of the take-out bags and gently passed it to Dean.  Bucky watched in shocked awe as the hunter opened the bag, an elated smile stretched across his face. 

“No way, you brought me pie,” Dean was grinning as his brother rolled his eyes.  Bucky and the other Avengers watched, shell shocked as Dean quickly sat on the couch and opened the pie container.  

“Yes, I was passing through a little mid-western town which boasted the best pecan pie,” Death sat down next to the hunter.

“And you couldn’t pass it up,” Dean chuckled.

“Obviously,” Death’s voice was fond.  Bucky swallowed, Death was fond of Dean. 

“You don’t really look like Death,” Bucky blurted out, eyes wide as he snapped his mouth shut.  Dean snorted into his pie.    

“I appear to you as I first appeared to Dean.  It seemed for the best,” Death gave a slight smile and Bucky repressed a shiver.

“Ummm, right, well, should we just...leave?” Bucky cringed as he hooked a thumb over his shoulder.

“You stay, the others can go,” Death gave Steve a straight look as Bucky’s best fried began to protest.  Stark grabbed Steve and Bucky silently thanked the billionaire as the Avengers filed out. 

Bucky stood stock still, unsure what to do.  He startled as Dean rose from the couch, empty pie plate in hand and motioned for Sam to follow him.  Sam clapped Bucky on the shoulder before he headed out the door.  Bucky turned to face Dean, the green eyed man coming back from the kitchen.  Their eyes met briefly before green eyes slid over Bucky’s shoulder, hardening for a split second before softly turning back to Bucky. 

“I’ll meet you in your room,” Dean spoke softly as he left for the elevator.

“They live very complicated lives; I don’t advise getting too invested.  Although, something tells me it’s already too late,” Death’s voice was soothing as Bucky watched the numbers on the elevator descend.     

“He understands,” Bucky turned, metal arm whirring as his fists clenched. 

“Yes, and he’ll never pity you or hold you back,” Death nodded for Bucky to sit.  Bucky sat. 

“How screwed are we?” Bucky asked after a moment. 

“Well, that entirely depends,” Death’s eyebrows raised at the abrupt change.

“On what?” Bucky’s voice wavered, eyes steel.

“On you and Dean,” Death gave him a small smile before blinking out of existence, the smell of take-out the only thing hanging in the air.

****

Dean was sitting on Bucky’s couch, nursing a beer when the soldier returned.  Bucky flopped down next to him, the couch creaking under the weight of the metal arm.    

“So, Death,” Bucky cocked his head towards Dean. 

“What? Not what you were expecting?” Dean snorted into his beer as he leaned into Bucky, “the first time we met was in a little pizza joint in Chicago.  He was gonna wipe out the city.  It was just part of the Apocalypse and all.”

“I take it he didn’t,” Bucky’s clear blue eyes encouraged Dean.

“Nah, it was Lucifer’s plan, not Deaths’,” Dean shrugged as he took another sip, “you have to understand something about Death, he’s all about balance.  Sure, different sides can use him but, he doesn’t like it.  Not one bit.”     

Dean titled his head, eyes intent on Bucky.  The soldier reached out and took the bottle away from Dean’s lips and placed it on the coffee table before moving his fingers to curl around Dean’s hand. 

“I’m sorry for attacking you back at the compound,” Bucky murmured.

“It’s alright, I know it wasn’t you,” Dean squeezed Bucky’s hand.

“That’s just the thing, he is me, or at least, a part of me,” Bucky removed his hand from Dean, dropping his head to his chest.

“You were a brainwashed assassin for 70 years, I was tortured in Hell for 30 and the torturer for 10,” Dean lay a reassuring hand on Bucky’s shoulder, turning the man to face him.

“You can honestly say that it wasn’t you.  You didn’t commit all those murders.  I, I can’t,” Dean choked on his words.                          

“Dean, you and your brother have done so much good for this world.  It’s still turning because of you two,” Bucky turned to face Dean, grabbing him by the back of his neck as their foreheads met. 

They stared at each other, breath ghosting over each other’s lips.  Dean didn’t want to ask what Death spoke with Bucky about, it couldn’t have been anything good.  At best, it was probably some cryptic bullshit made to keep everyone on their toes. 

“We have a lot of work to do,” Bucky stated as Dean stared into clear blue eyes.  Yeah, cryptic bullshit.  Dean sighed as the soldier gave him a tiny smirk before soft lips were pressed to his. 

       

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it's open ended just in case I decide to write a sequel :)
> 
> Comments or Kudos!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments or Kudos!


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